


Christmas in New York

by notjustmom



Series: Ironstrange Christmas Bingo [1]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ironstrange Christmas Bingo, M/M, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:42:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 10,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21604720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: So I bumped into a Christmas Ironstrange Bingo created by strangemischief on tumblr, and I had been trying to think of what to do with it, if anything, and then yesterday, this plot bunny ruthlessly attacked me unprovoked:It’s the Christmas after the Attack on New York, Stephen is stranded somewhere because of a bad snowstorm, and on this particular night, someone breaks into Stark Tower. Peter, in this case, who was not raised by Aunt May, but has run away from more foster homes than he can count. In this verse, he is sixteen, and I imagine him to be just as brilliant as Tony was at that age, if not more so, and snarkier than Harley, and yes, he happens to be Tony’s biological son…
Relationships: Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark & Stephen Strange, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Series: Ironstrange Christmas Bingo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557097
Comments: 193
Kudos: 116





	1. Family Reunion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StrangeMischief](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrangeMischief/gifts).



> I imagine this series will be mostly made of short chapters, taking place over the week of Christmas - Stephen may show up at some point or he may be present in texts and video chats only.... we'll see what happens.

Tony bolted upright in bed, but couldn’t remember a nightmare. There had been a noise, though. He sat completely still and listened. There. Again. Damn. Mice? How the hell did mice - nope. Mice didn’t swear.

“ _Fuck a duck!_ ”

He yanked on his watch, just in case and grabbed the nearest thing handy, a putter. He rolled his eyes, but walked into the room and flooded the room with light to find a kid dressed head to toe in black, sitting on the floor, holding his ankle.

“What the -”

“Oh, hell. The lord of the manor…”

“Who the hell are you? And how the hell did you get in?” He walked over to the windows and saw that he had somehow removed the pane of glass without a sound. Maybe that had been the first sound he had heard?

“I asked you a question, kid.”

“Name is Parker.” He sighed and pulled the black ski-mask from his face then groaned as he tried to put pressure on his ankle. “Damn. Peter Parker.”

“You do know who I am?”

“Yeah. Course I do. You’re Tony Stark, and according to my birth certificate you are my father.”


	2. Hot Cocoa

Peter froze, then held his breath as Tony narrowed his eyes at him and started laughing, then walked over to him, carefully helped him to his feet, and wrapping an arm around his waist, walked him over to the couch, then left the room, still chuckling to himself. 

This wasn’t the reception he was expecting. In fact, he'd had good intel that Stark wasn’t even supposed to be at the Stark Tower that night, otherwise he never would have braved the freezing elements, and it wasn’t that there was anything he wanted to steal, really, he just wanted to see if he could -

He was still lost in his thoughts when Tony returned holding a mug of hot cocoa in one hand, and an ice pack in the other. He handed Peter the cocoa, whipped cream, not marshmallows, how did he know?

“Marshmallows are only good for s’mores and Rice Krispie treats, kid. I’m gonna take off your boot, let’s see what the damage is, hmm?”

Peter sipped at the cocoa, and muttered under his breath, “I remember -”

“Your mom taught me, or at least who I assume has to be your mom, it’s one of the few things I know how to make well - you’re sixteen, right?”

“Uhmmhmm…” 

“We were together for a few months, and one morning she was gone. If I had known…” Tony pulled off the boot and the sock then nodded at the bruise that was already forming and the swelling. “You’re not going anywhere for awhile, kid. And relax, you don’t have to worry about the cops.” He looked over at Peter and found his own dark eyes staring back at him, but his mother’s cheekbones, nose and mouth. “If I had known, I know you won’t believe me, but I would have, at the very least, offered to help. I’m assuming something happened to her - are you hungry?”

“I didn’t come here to -”

“No. I’m sure you didn’t. I’m sure you’re just fine on your own, I’m just offering you a sandwich, Stephen, my husband. Hell. He's the cook - what the -?" He glanced at Peter again and shrugged, then applied the ice to his ankle, and whispered, "you've got a crazy threshold for pain, kid."

“I’ll be fine.”

“Peter, may I call you Peter? I may not be a doctor, but I can tell when a bone is broken. There are over three feet of snow on the ground - I don’t even know what the hell you were thinking, but I have to say, you do have mad skills, what did you use? Suction cups? Wires? Never mind. Peanut butter and banana?”

Peter swore under his breath as he felt his eyes tear up. “Uhm, yeah, please, Mr. Stark.”

“Kid. My name is Tony. No one calls me Mr. Stark. Drink your cocoa.”


	3. Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tony figures out Peter isn't your typical sixteen year old cat burglar...

Tony returned from the kitchen with the sandwich to find the mug on the table next to the couch, and Peter fast asleep. He shook his head and wondered briefly if he was just in the middle of one of the oddest dreams he's ever had, when his phone vibrated in his pocket.

"Sorry I didn't make it home, the next shift couldn't get in. I'm going to try to be home as soon as I can. Love you." - S

"Love you, too." - T

"Try to get some sleep." - S

Tony snorted and put his phone away, then removed the ice from Peter's foot, and realized there was nothing wrong with the kid's ankle at all. "Hell." He rubbed his eyes, and looked at the ankle again, not even bruised. He pulled up a chair to the couch and dropped down into it, then crossed his arms as he studied the boy again. No evidence of wires, or equipment that would allow him to scale the tower, and yet he had managed to somehow. He shivered then, as a gust of wind blew through the window, the window the kid had removed single-handed, reminded him it was winter. 

He considered the idea that Peter was an alien life form, or maybe Loki was playing a joke on him? No, he was supposed to be back in Asgard, in prison, last he'd heard from Thor, but, hell, anything was possible these days, until he watched as Peter opened his eyes and nearly tumbled from the couch.

"Where am I?"

"Stark Tower ring any bells?"

"Sorry. I - I think it's best if I leave, this was a mistake."

"When did you find out about me?"

Peter sighed as he sat up and ran his fingers through his hair. "Press conference when you got back from Afghanistan. I was twelve. Mom was in hospice, she made me go to school during the day, but I would sleep on the couch in her room. That day, I got there, and she turned the television on, and she told me who you were. She gave me an envelope full of stuff, she knew she wasn't going to last much longer."

"She was studying -"

"Journalism. She was a journalist. A good one. She died when I was thirteen."

"Why didn't you, why didn't someone -"

"I was pissed off at you? Pride? I don't know. Once I knew who you were, I kept expecting you to show up, and you never did. She never had a single bad word to say about you, not one. She didn't want to bother you, she had heard you were going through a rough time after you got back from Afghanistan, she knew people who knew people... Look. I can pay to repair the window, I'm sorry I chose such a crappy night - you seem like a good guy..."

"Your ankle. It isn't broken."

Peter shook his head.

"Let me see your hands."

Peter rolled his eyes, but put out his hands, and groaned as Tony found the mechanism for his web solution, that he'd tucked into his sleeve. "You're the one who's on the covers of the tabloids, well, not you, because no one's ever got you on camera before, but you've been breaking into all the penthouse apartments of the filthy rich, you take enough to live on, and you give the rest to charity. Great, my son is Robin Hood."

"You believe me. Just like that." Peter crossed his arms and glared at him. "You don't want to see any evidence, paper work -?"

"You're too much like your mom, and definitely too much like me, not to be my kid. And I've seen weirder stuff lately. I should have tried to find her, at least find out what happened to her, but honestly, when she left, it really messed me up for a long time. She didn't leave a note, just left the ring I'd given her, she just packed up her stuff one day when I was at work. If she had told me, I would have married her, but -"

"She never wanted to get married. It was always just the two of us."

"I'm sorry, Peter."

"I'm not." He ran his fingers through his hair again and mumbled, "to be honest, I was just curious, and especially after what you did when the Chitauri attacked, I wanted to see if, I just wanted to know if I could do it. I thought no one would be home."

"I wasn't supposed to be, we were supposed to be on vacation. Wait. You're the one who hacked into my servers."

"Wasn't me, buddy from school."

"Tell him if he wants a job it's his." Tony looked into his son’s face, and saw a brief flicker of something close to amusement, at the very least, surprise, and then it was gone. “I assume you have a place of your own, at least eat the sandwich before you go, I’m going back to bed.” He held out his hand and muttered, “it was nice to meet you, Peter Parker, next time you want to drop by or whatever it is that you do, just ring the doorbell, hmm?” He yelped as Peter shook his hand and Peter bit his lip.

“Sorry. I, uhm - I don’t touch people very often.”

“It’s okay, kid. Listen, it’s Christmas in a few days - nah, never mind -”

“What?”

“We don’t really celebrate, but if you wanted to bring your hacker friend over for dinner?”

“Won’t it mess things up with -”

“Stephen? No. I think he’d find the situation comical, almost normal considering the last few months. Just think about it. Night.”

“Night.”

Peter got up from the couch as Tony walked away and cleared his throat. “Thanks, uhm, for the cocoa and the sandwich.”

“Anytime, kid.”


	4. Snowflakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen takes the news rather well, considering he's been up for nearly two days...

“Hey. Uhm, question. Did you vanquish another alien race last night, perhaps in our living room, I didn’t see any blood, or corpses -?”

Tony blinked at Stephen and yawned. “Huh?”

“It’s snowing inside? You know, actual snowflakes, are actually sticking to the floor the floor below us?”

“Damn. Not a dream. You remember about a week after we started dating, and you casually asked me if one day you should worry about any teenagers who might claim to be related to me?”

“Uhmhmmm? Is this strictly a hypothetical notion, or -”

“His name is Peter, he’s sixteen, and he broke in last night.”

“And where he is now?”

“Don’t know.”

“You don’t know. What did you do - are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. You know all the burglaries - no one has seen how he gets in or out -”

“A sixteen year old kid, a Stark, no less…”

“His name is Parker. His mom - she didn’t tell him until right before she died.”

“Shit. The one -”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t call the cops.”

“No.”

“What _did_ you do?”

“He’d broken - I thought he’d broken his ankle, no, he _had_ broken his ankle when he broke in, that’s how I knew he was here, kid swears like a sailor.”

“Definitely related to you -” Stephen snorted as he pulled his shirt over his head.

“I helped him to the couch, and then I went into the kitchen and made him cocoa.”

“I hope after he told you he was your son, at least.”

“Yeah, of course, I’m not a complete moron, and then, when I went back in the kitchen to make him a sandwich -”

Stephen rolled his eyes, then stepped out of his scrubs and fell into bed next to him. “Peanut butter and banana, saw the plate, by the couch.”

“And when I went back in, he was asleep. I took off the ice pack and his ankle was fine.”

“Tony.”

“I know what I saw. He couldn’t put weight on it, then maybe ten minutes later -”

“Did you at least invite him for Christmas dinner?” Stephen mumbled into his chest as he octopussed around him, nearly asleep already.

“Yeah, of course I did, what kind of father do you think I am?”


	5. Gift Wrap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter tells Ned about meeting his father...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, I have this thing about the peanut butter and banana sandwich - I think this was Peter's mom's comfort food thing that she made for people she loved, and she must have loved Tony, because he knew about it...

“You did what?” Ned asked as he did his best with the roll of gift wrap and after a twenty second struggle gave up. “You met him? The idea was to get in and not let him know you were there - and - what’s he like?”

“I tripped. You’d think by now, I’d be used to these ridiculous feet, I just tripped over my own damn feet after I got the window out. He actually helped me walk to the couch, got me an ice pack, and made me hot cocoa, like my mom used to. But he knows something’s off, he’s not a stupid guy, which, of course I knew - but he could tell I had broken my ankle, and then when he went to make me a sandwich -”

“Tony Stark made you a sandwich. Not -”

“Peanut Butter and Banana.”

“So he really knew your mom.”

“Yeah. He knows my ankle’s not broken any more.”

“Oh, damn.” 

“And he swiped my web solution, had to use the front door.”

“So - he’s gonna figure out -”

“Yeah.”

“So - how was the sandwich?”

“It was awesome. And he knows you hacked into his servers. Well, not that it was you, but he knew someone had, and he offered you a job - not sure if he was serious, but wanna come to Christmas Dinner with me and find out?”

“Pete. It’s like - your dad is like Superman, but better, your dad is Iron Man, dude. You don’t want to bring a stranger to your first Christmas with your dad.”

“Ned, I’m a stranger too. He doesn’t know me - I think he was just being polite, but, he seemed, I don’t know, like he wished he had known about me.”

“So after he gave you the sandwich -”

“He went to bed, and I left.”

“He didn’t call the cops, or like - I don’t know - put on his armor?”

“Nah, he just seemed like a regular guy for a billionaire, not that I know any other billionaires personally, I was expecting him to be a little taller, though.”


	6. Scrooge

Stephen groans as he opens his eyes to a still freezing room, and reaches over to feel an even colder space where Tony should have been. He’s been up for hours. Damn. Then he closes his eyes again and takes a deep breath in. He can’t quite place the scent, it’s a mix of spices, and other things - and he shudders as he remembers the last time Tony tried to bake something. Some people just shouldn’t be allowed near a kitchen. _Ever._

He slowly rolls out of bed, throws on his robe and shoves his feet into his slippers, then makes his way down the stairs to find Tony and a couple of his armors, he had long ago lost track of what Mark he was at now - in the 50s, maybe, making repairs to the window and adding more cameras - but the thing that made him stop short was the general sense that someone had lost their mind. Whether it was Tony, or himself he wasn't sure yet. It could very well be that he was hallucinating the train track that took over nearly half of the room, and the three live Christmas trees? They had to be eleven feet tall if they were an inch, not to mention the dozens of boxes of assorted ornaments and strands of lights that were dangling from every corner, and he definitely smelled cinnamon, and then the Christmas song started from somewhere. At least it wasn’t the Chipmunks; Sinatra, he could handle.

He sighs as Tony finally spots him and gently, as gently as the armor allows, eases down to the floor, from where he had been perched as he installed the last camera. He dismisses his assistants and steps out of his armor, sending it back to what Stephen had long ago dubbed the ‘lair.’

“Just how long have I been asleep?”

“What day is it?”

“What day is it???” Stephen ruffles his fingers through his hair and narrows his eyes at Tony as he sees the old twinkle in his eyes that he wasn’t sure he’d ever see again after his recent battle with the Chitauri.

“You slept about twelve hours.”

“You did all this in twelve -”

“More like six.”

“Six - how? No, never mind, it really is best that I don’t know. Uhm, listen, I’m not trying to be a Scrooge or anything, but, don’t you think, all this might overwhelm him? I know you want to make up for lost time. I hate to even bring it up, but are you positive he’s - I mean, I’m sure -”

“Stephen. He’s my son. When you meet him, you’ll know.”

“Tony.”

“He’s coming on Christmas Day, and bringing his hacker with him.”

“He texted you. Of course he did.”

Tony moves closer to him and wraps his fingers around his wrist, then brings his hand to his lips and presses a kiss to the center of his palm, and Stephen nearly sinks to his knees as he whimpers out, “honey.”

“ _I called him._ Just wanted to be sure he got home okay. I did just enough research to find his phone number, I’m not into invading anyone’s privacy, especially his. Sorry I’ve been such a mess, lately. Let me, let me enjoy this? Let’s try to - I need to forget, Doc, please. There’s something funny about him, I don’t know what it is yet, but I just have the feeling this kid needs me, needs us. Now. The window is fixed, and if he tries again, he’ll be caught on camera, but he’s not a stupid kid, I think he just likes to make the occasional grand gesture like his old man. Let me take you to bed, please?”

Stephen nods, then lifts Tony’s chin and searches the deep brown eyes, catching a glimpse of the man he had fallen in love with over a decade ago. “Sorry, I know. I’ve known how long you’ve wanted a kid, I just don’t want you to get hurt, you’ve been through enough lately…”

Tony presses a kiss to his knuckles, and gazes into the silver eyes that are now nearly blown dark. “I love you, you know I’ve never needed or wanted more than you, yeah? You are my home, my family.”

“Shhh, you need to rest before you install a chimney somewhere -” he raises an eyebrow at him, and asks uncertainly, “you aren’t installing one at the moment, are you?”

“No, I considered it briefly- I’m kidding, Doc, I’m kidding.”

“Bed. Now.”


	7. St. Nick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Stephen...

"Sir?"

"Yes, Jarvis?"

"Mr. Parker is approaching."

"Hmmm, interesting. Send him up here, please."

"Sir."

Stephen turned as the elevator doors opened, and got his first look at Peter Parker. Sixteen and he would be taller than Tony in about a week. Auburn hair, striking features, but nothing familiar in his face, until Peter looked up and met his inquiring gaze with one of his own, and saw Tony's eyes glancing back at him. Yes, he knew exactly what Tony had seen that night, and he couldn't help but grin as Peter took in the changes in the room since he had last 'visited.'

"He's not here."

"No, I know. Saw him leave. I, uhm, I wanted to talk to you, actually, you're Stephen, right?"

"I am."

"Sorry, but, uhm, what the hell happened in here? Looks like the North Pole exploded in here -"

"You happened."

"Huh?"

"Have a seat."

Peter walked over to the couch and sat down, but couldn't keep his eyes off the nearly completed train track.

"He ran out of track, went to pick up some more pieces. He'll be back - look. I need to know, well, to be a bit old-fashioned, what your intentions are."

"My intentions?"

Stephen crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, and spoke slowly as if Peter were a child, which, essentially, he was. "You went to a great deal of trouble to get in here, on a night when you thought he wasn't going to be here, so you didn't do it so you could meet him, and there isn't anything to steal, the only things of value in this building are the ideas in his head. You just wanted to see if you could do it, right?"

"Yeah."

"But, you did meet him. Would you have ever told him who you were if he hadn't been here that night?"

"Honestly?"

"I think that would be the way to go."

"No, yeah, I dunno, to tell you the truth. I've known for a few years who he was. My mother told me a few weeks before she died. That press conference, after he got back from Afghanistan? She wouldn't have told me except for the drugs she was on, that's what I thought, anyway, but then I was going through her stuff before I had to, before I went to the first foster home and found this box of letters she had written to him. There were thirteen envelopes, like she had written to him once a year, they had stamps on them, different addresses, she always knew where he was somehow, she was good at that sort of thing. She was a journalist, had her ways of finding things out. She never sent them, but she had kept them. I didn't open them, I kinda guessed what they were, she'd had times when she had wanted him to know, but couldn't make herself put them in the mailbox. 

It wasn't until the thing with the Chitauri, what he did - I was in school, we were sitting there in class watching it happen. I sat there while he flew that fucking nuke - sorry - then he was gone, and I thought - my dad's gone - I had never thought of him like that before that moment, but I said to myself, 'my dad is dead too, and I never got to -' Hell, sorry. I can't imagine what that must have been like for you."

Stephen blinked at him and before he could stop himself dropped down onto the couch next to him and said, "I was working that day, I'm a neurosurgeon, usually, but I didn't get home until two days after it was over. I don't normally work in the ER, but, well - you remember what it was like, I didn't even know until I saw the headlines what he had done, and -"

"How long have you been together? Sorry. Not my business."

"Eleven years, married for five, but we've been friends since MIT."

"So -"

"He told me about her. Took a long time for him to trust me. I think, even now, there are days when he thinks one day I'll - damn." 

Stephen shook his head and looked away from him, and was about to get up from the couch when Peter muttered under his breath as if thinking aloud more than asking Stephen a question, "why did he believe me?"

"Hmm?" 

"He laughed when I told him who I was, but I knew he believed me without even asking me for any proof, and you believe me too, why?"

"First of all, that stunt you pulled? That's straight from the Stark playbook, the pranks he pulled at MIT when he was your age are legendary, but it's more than that. You have his eyes, the rest of you is your mom, but the eyes are..." 

Stephen made himself look into Peter's eyes again. It wasn't just the color, or the intelligence, or the same general wariness, but it was the light he always saw, even on Tony's worst days that was shining back at him. He blinked and turned away, then tried to clear his throat as he shook his head again as if he could somehow rearrange all the thoughts running through his head at the moment. 

Finally after a moment, he stood up and sighed. "Look. Just look around you, kid, I know for a fact he loathes Christmas, always has. But, in six hours he had half the track built, the trees were up, he had Sinatra on, for god's sake, he would have baked cookies, but he knows I don't like it when he sets the kitchen on fire. Don't ask me how, I've learned not to ask. All of this is all for you. He wants to play St. Nick, maybe to somehow partly make up for not being there for you."

Stephen ran his fingers through his hair and shrugged. "This situation, you and him, it's nothing to do with me, not really. I just need to know, if you are going to stick around. I mean, actually, I don't have a clue what I mean. He is, well, you saw who he is on some days that night. You break into what is basically Fort Knox single-handed, and he doesn't call the cops, he makes you cocoa and a sandwich. 

I know people have ideas about who he is, they think he's indestructible, superhuman, some people probably think he's not human at all. To me, he is the most human, the most fallible person I've ever known, but also one of the best. Okay, yeah, he can buy most small countries, if he wanted to. Hell, I don't even know why I'm saying all this to you, he's the only other person who was ever able to - I'm gonna be honest, kid, I don't like people, and recently, I've learned to really loathe aliens, never thought that was ever something I'd have to consider, but there it is. But, I like you. I see what he saw in you the other night. But the real reason I wanted to talk to you is that he tested your solution, and he figured out how you got in. He knows there's something a bit, _different_ about you? And I think it's better that you just tell him now before anything else happens."

"Sir."

"Yes, Jarvis."

"Mr. Stark is on his way up."

"Thank you, Jarvis."

"Sir."

"He can help, Peter, you just need to tell him, if anyone would understand, it would be him."

Peter shook his head, then whispered, "I - I just don't want him to think -"

"Look, don't assume he thinks like everyone else would. I think you've already figured out he doesn't think like anyone else. Sometimes, he gets things so wrong, it's ludicrous. It's usually when he tries to do everything himself, because he thinks it's expected, or it's his fault somehow, or it's just that he hasn't slept for three days. None of that explains this homage to all things Christmas, this is all about you, kid, and you've got less than five seconds to decide what to tell him."

"Pete? Kid. Damn, I was trying to get this all set up before -" he looked over at Stephen and raised an eyebrow at him, then grinned as he saw the answer in his eyes.

"I'm going to, hmmm, bake some cookies. Good to meet you, Peter." Stephen nodded at them and left the room.

"Mr. -"

Tony rolled his eyes, then carried the bags over to where the track had ended, and grumbled out quietly as he eased himself down on the floor, and began to work, "come on, Pete, this thing isn't going to build itself, unless you've got someplace else you need to be?"

"No, uh-uh."

"Then what are you waiting for, kid?" 

Peter couldn't help but laugh for some reason, and when he saw Tony look up in surprise, he bit his lip then said a bit too loudly for his own ears, "thanks, Dad. Is that okay, if I call you that? I understand if it feels weird. I've been trying to figure out what to call you ever since I found out, in case - well, in case I ever met you."

Tony blinked at him and nodded. "Yeah, Pete, it's more than okay, course, I don't mind a bit."


	8. Gingerbread

They worked in silence for an hour, until Peter sat up and took a deep breath in, and asked quietly, “what is that?”

“Hmm?” Tony attached another piece of track, then closed his eyes and smiled. “Gingerbread.”

“Damn, that smells good.”

“Yeah, yeah, it does.”

“Stephen.”

Tony studied the boy’s face for a moment and sighed. “You two talked while I was gone.”

Peter nodded. “He said you figured out how I did it, how I got in.”

“Mostly.” Tony pulled a vial from his pocket and tossed it in his direction, and shook his head as Peter snatched it from the air. “The tensile strength in that is insane. You made that.”

Peter nodded. “A year ago, I was working in a lab, my science teacher could see I was, well, I needed a challenge, so she got me permission to work at the City College lab on weekends, and it was awesome.” Tony turned away to hide his grin, then nodded at him to go on.

“Well, one night when I was working, I must’ve fallen asleep, because I don’t remember getting bit, or stung or anything, and then I came to, and well, I was different.”

“Different, how?”

“First, I could hear, no, not hear exactly, it was more like a feeling, like I could tell when things were gonna happen right before they happened, I don’t know if that makes sense, like all the input I was taking in was off the charts? And then I tried opening the door to the lab and I nearly tore it off its hinges. I sat down on the floor and tried to figure out what the hell happened, and after a minute, I grabbed my stuff, and went to talk to Ned, and eventually, we figured out what could’ve happened, and one night we just started brainstorming about what I could do, I mean - just tossing ideas around, and then Ned said something about spiders, and we started working on this stuff - no one else knows. Just the two of you and Ned. 

This was the last one, the break-ins? It was always going to be, the others, it wasn't about the money, never was, they were practice runs. This place - you. You were always the reason once I got the idea - originally, I just wanted to know if I could get in and out without you knowing, just because.”

Tony nodded at him, then looked up to see Stephen leaning against the couch. 

“And I would’ve gotten away with it, if I hadn’t tripped over my own feet. He -” Peter glanced over at Stephen and shrugged his shoulders then looked down at the train car in his hand, and went on quietly. “He wanted to know if I would’ve ever told you who I was, if you hadn’t been home, that night.” He put down the car and picked up his backpack, then pulled out a stack of envelopes tied together with a ribbon. 

“These - I found them after, I haven’t read them, because they - they are all addressed to you. The last one she wrote a week before she died, she asked me to get stamps, but I forgot. She always knew where you were. I’d like to think I -” He looked down at the packet in his hands and placed it gently next to Tony, then slowly got to his feet and looked around him. “I’d like to think one day I would have gotten the guts to walk up to the door and tell you. After the Chitauri? I wanted to see if you were okay. It was the first time I felt like, I don’t know, it felt like if you hadn’t made it out of the wormhole, I would have missed you. Before that you were, a goal, not really real, not a person.”

“And now?” Tony whispered as he picked up the envelopes, then slowly lifted his gaze to look at Peter.

“Now? I’m really glad you were home, Dad.”

Tony nodded and mumbled, “yeah, me too, kid. We’re still on for Christmas, right?”

“Is it okay if I bring Ned?”

“Your hacker. Absolutely, I’m sure he has ideas about how to improve the security in this place.”

Stephen straightened up, and offered Peter his hand. “I made sheets of gingerbread, was thinking... I was going to run out and get stuff to make gingerbread houses, I have to work tomorrow during the day, but I’ll be home around seven, pizza and - bring your hacker friend along.”

Peter blinked at him and took his hand carefully. “Thanks, we’ll be here. I - I’m, just thanks.”

“Right. Yeah. See you tomorrow.” Stephen nodded briskly, then left the room again.

Tony slowly got to his feet and cleared his throat. “Listen. Pete, if you wanted to do something different with your particular skill set, I mean, it would take a lot of time and work. This life, well, not this life, the other part, the superhero gig, it’s something I do because I can do stuff no one else can do, and - I’m saying this badly -”

“Are you asking me to be your sidekick?”

Tony laughed, then searched Peter’s face for a long moment. “Yeah, I guess I am, kiddo. I guess I am.”

“You - I mean - uhm. Wow. Seriously. I can’t even - look. Why don’t you read those letters first, and if you feel the same way, ask me again tomorrow.”

“You’ll be here?”

“Yeah, Dad, we’ll be here, promise.”


	9. Carols

Stephen walked back in the room to find Tony still standing, the letters in his hand, and Peter gone. He had known him long enough to know he wasn’t okay without asking him, and walked over to him, stepping carefully over the track until he stood in front of him and waited until Tony slowly leaned into him and closed his eyes.

“Jarvis.”

“Sir.” A moment later, the voice of Nat King Cole quietly filled the room as Stephen wrapped his arms around him and pressed his cheek into his hair as he swayed gently to the music.

“Stephen.”

“Yeah.”

“I would’ve -”

“I know. He knows.”

Tony shook his head against Stephen’s chest for a moment, then stilled. “I love you.”

“Yeah. I love you too.”

“No, I mean. If she had told me, and stayed -”

“I know.”

“This, us, you and me. Just because he’s - you are - you know -”

“Yeah, Tony, I know. I also know that he needs you, as much as you want to be a part of his life, probably more. And I think I’m a pretty decent judge of character, and aside from breaking in here, he seems like a decent kid, and I - if you want to ask him to move in here, to stay, I want you to.”

Tony blinked up at him and whispered, “not too soon, you think?”

“No. We have plenty of room, and you could always use the help. It’s obvious he’s a chip off the old block; and I do seem to remember what you were like at his age, you with superpowers? Seems like he’s been playing with fire for a while. You’d be good for him.”

“We’ll be good for him. Gingerbread houses? You ol’ softie, Strange.”

“Well… seems like it would be fun.”

Tony sniffed, then raised an eyebrow at him, “you sure you ready to become the step-father of a teenager, Doc?”

“In all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never been ready for anything, but as long as we do this together -”

“We can do anything, right?”

“Yeah, Stark,” Stephen pulled him closer against him, and whispered into his hair, “we can do anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This the song I imagine Jarvis would play for them: Nat King Cole's "Adeste Fideles" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mWdJKL978lE


	10. Lights

Stephen’s fingers curled around Tony’s as they stepped away from the safety of the tower and into the flow of the pedestrian traffic, but then paused as he blinked up at the Christmas lights, and pulled Tony against the side of the tower, then whispered, “you’re the reason we still have all this.”

“Stephen, don’t.”

“No. Just look around you. Yes, there is some damage, and some of it can’t be fixed, but people are out walking around and acting like it’s Christmas still. They are already beginning to forget how close we came to losing all of this.” 

He cradled his face in his gloved hands, and studied the features he knew so well, and had loved for so long. He smiled carefully at him and kissed his forehead, then sighed as Tony leaned against him and he wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. 

“When I got home that night, after everything I had seen over those three days, to find you in your workshop, as if nothing had happened, I wondered if I had just imagined everything, and then you looked up at me, and I knew. I knew how close I had come to losing you. I knew you hadn’t slept, I could see it in your eyes that you were trying to work something out, something you didn’t understand. I hadn’t really seen you look like that before, in all the years I’d known you. I wanted to be able to fix it for you, but all I could do was carry you upstairs, and - shit. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m telling you this now.”

“I did it for you,” Tony mumbled against him.

“What?”

“There wasn’t ever a decision, and I didn’t fly through a wormhole to save Manhattan, I did it to save you. You were the only thing I thought of as I closed my eyes and let go, and started falling, and I hoped - I didn’t even know if you were okay, but I had to believe you were.” 

His arms slipped around Stephen’s waist and he held on tightly for a moment, then stepped back to look into Stephen’s face. He rolled his eyes as he laid a single finger over his lips and shook his head at the look in Stephen’s eyes. “I can’t imagine my life without you, you know that, right? Ever since I can remember, you have been my one constant, my touchstone, my heart on those days when I can’t bear to feel anything. You are the reason, the reason I am still here, Stephen.”

He kissed away the tear that slipped down Stephen’s face, then whispered against his lips, “I love you, Doc.”

It took everything in Stephen not to take him by the hand and go back upstairs and to bed, but he nodded, then brought his hand to his lips and kissed the inside of his wrist and grinned as he heard his breath catch. “Yeah, love you too, Stark. So, we need gumdrops and skittles, and M&Ms….”

Tony leaned against him and closed his eyes for a moment as Stephen’s arm settled around his waist, and they easily fell into step as they always did. It wasn’t something he ever considered until that moment, that they functioned as one being, most of the time. They just seemed to fill in those empty places in the other, and as Stephen chattered on, Tony slipped his hand under his coat and pressed it against the small of his back, as if he needed to be reassured that he was real, and solid, actually next to him. Stephen looked down at him, and caught his eye and nodded. “Yeah, Stark. I know,” then kissed his forehead, and went on chatting, as if he knew he needed the sound of his voice to keep him from getting lost in the noise of the city.


	11. Secret Santa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and yes, Peter's Secret Santa person is MJ...

As Peter glanced up at Tony for the third time in as many minutes, he put down his tube of icing and nodded at him.

“Spill it, Pete.”

“It’s nothin’.”

“Pete. I’ve only spent a few hours with you, but I can tell that something is bugging you.”

“It’s a girl.”

“A girl.”

“Well, she’s not bugging me, it’s that we have this Secret Santa thing at school, and I got her name, and now I have to come up with something for her in like, a week.”

“So, what does she like?”

“Uhm, true crime, you know those unsolved cases? She’s really smart, I mean, she knows everything about everything...?”

“Mmmhmm… so you like her.”

Peter shrugged, then ran his fingers through his hair and gave him a sheepish half-grin. “Yeah, I do. It’s just - she’s… different.”

“Ask her out yet?”

“No.”

“Talk to her?”

“Yeah, uhm, kinda -”

Ned pointedly kept working on keeping the walls of his house from falling in, but Tony caught him rolling his eyes upward.

“Peter.” Tony sighed and pointed at the window where Peter had broken in. “I had to replace a window and install new cameras because you had the guts and skills to find a way into this building, and yet, you are afraid to talk to a girl you like?”

“It’s different.”

“How so?”

“My stomach gets all funny, and even if I know what I want to say, when she looks at me, my mouth goes dry, and my brain shuts down.”

“He was the same way, when he was your age,” Stephen remarked as he added another row of M&Ms to the roof of his gingerbread house.

“Was not.”

“You would be in the hallway outside one of my classes, waiting for me to come out, and then you would see me and run off.”

“Oh, well... maybe the one time.”

“Try five? Until I finally invited you out for coffee.”

“I don’t remember it that -”

Stephen snorted and shook his head. “Does she talk to you?”

“Yeah, sometimes?”

“Well, you already know some things about her, just invite her over here for dinner one night.”

“Over here?” Peter's voice went up a notch higher than usual and Ned couldn't help but grin at him.

Stephen rolled his eyes at Tony and nudged him with his foot.

“Yeah, we, uhm, we’ve talked it over, and we have a lot of space, and you seem to have certain skills that -”

Stephen sighed at him and went on. “Peter, what your father is trying to say badly, is that we are inviting you to live with us, here. You are family, and we would very much like to offer you a home here.”

"Really?" 

"Really truly. Watch out, your roof is about to collapse."


	12. Fireplace

There were times when Tony wished they had a fireplace, of course it didn’t make sense to have one, as he’d designed the building to stay at a perfectly pleasant temperature, but just once in a while, like tonight, he wished they could build a fire and he would curl up in Stephen’s arms….

“Come with me.”

“Hmm?”

Stephen waited until he turned from the window and looked up into his eyes. He wondered, not for the first time at his never-ending patience and how after all these years, the way he looked at him still made him shiver and all he could do was take his hand and follow him to the couch. Stephen sat down, then patted the space next to him, and Tony curled up into it and rested his head on his thigh, closing his eyes as long fingers rested in his hair.

“Fireplaces are messy, and we don’t need one in order to cuddle, you know that, right?”

“Hmm… yeah, I know, I guess I just like the idea -”

“I’m proud of you.”

Tony turned his head to catch Stephen smiling gently at him. “Proud of me, what for?”

“About Peter.”

“I’m just doing what I should do - what I would’ve done -”

“That’s not true. You like him, you already care about him.”

“Of course -”

“Tony. I know, remember? I met your parents, there are days when I still can’t believe how you survived, let alone became you. I don’t mean, I know some of it is because of what happened to you in Afghanistan, but you genuinely have a good heart, and you are able to give him that.”

Tony reached up and laid a hand on Stephen’s face, then shook his head. “You give me far too much credit, Doc. What I am able to offer to him, is only because of the love you’ve given to me for so long. I figured out something today, as we spent time together, as I listened to him, learned what made him smile and laugh, I knew I had figured how to be still and present from you. All the times, like now, when you’ve asked nothing from me, and given me -”

“Tony.”

“You’ve given me everything, you know that, don’t you?”

Stephen turned his head and kissed Tony’s palm, then whispered, “you _are_ everything. It’s that simple and that complicated, always has been. You are my heart walking out in the world. Whenever you put on the armor, you carry me with you, and now, now that you have become a father, or finally discovered you have been one, you won’t do this on your own either. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yeah, Doc. I know, I know.”


	13. Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For my lovely, sweet Pat...

“All unpacked?” Tony asked without looking up from his monitors when Peter walked into the workshop.

“Uhm, yeah. Whoa. This is -”

“It’s your space too, now. If you want to, that is. I have ideas - sorry.”

Peter grinned, then sat down on a stool across from him and met his father’s uncertain gaze. “Listen. I didn’t - it wasn’t my intention, I really didn’t expect you to do this. Invite me to live here. Honestly, I didn’t know what to expect, I’ve kinda learned not to expect anything.”

Tony snorted and ran his fingers through his hair before he answered, “yeah. Comes with the territory, with being a Stark, I guess. What’s that in your hand?”

“It’s, uhm, just an angel we had always put on our tree, I was thinking -”

“Can I see it?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Peter handed over a tiny glass angel, that had somehow survived the multitude of moves over its existence, and after a moment, Tony whispered, “I gave this to her, the one Christmas - I thought it looked a bit like her. Come on, let’s go put it up on one of the trees, unless you want a tree for your space.”

Peter shook his head. “No, I was going to put it on the tree with the silver bells on it?”

“That’s what I was thinking, kiddo. Maybe later, I can show you what I'm working on, just a couple of ideas…” He stopped talking as Peter got up from his stool and wrapped his arms around him.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, sure, Pete. Come on, let’s go find a good place for this, yeah, and then maybe -”

“Cheeseburgers?”

“Definitely, cheeseburgers, just what I was thinking about.”


	14. Ugly Sweaters

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was her favorite part about Christmas?”

Without missing a beat, Peter answered, “the sweaters.”

“The sweaters?” Tony asked as he watched Peter demolish a second cheeseburger.

“Ugliest sweaters I ever saw in my life, sometimes I would have nightmares about them. But she loved them. It started as a joke one year, but then it became a serious competition, her friends were intense - you know - reindeer with lights, Santa - sequins, fur, the funkier the better - she would wear them like a badge of honor. She had an amazing sense of humor.” He paused, then studied Tony’s face for a moment, before he stated matter-of-factly, “you haven’t read the letters yet.”

Tony shook his head and shrugged, then looked up at him. “I know I should, I - I’m just afraid to, I guess. I should have known somehow, Peter.”

“It wasn’t your fault. She was the strongest person I’ve ever known, and stubborn to a fault at times, she had her reasons for waiting to tell me. I guess, I think she had always known I’d eventually go looking for whoever you were, and I think she was afraid I’d want to leave her once I knew, but I wouldn’t have done that to her. I didn’t ever want for anything, sure, there were times when I was curious about you, before I knew, but she was always there - until she wasn’t, and then, I didn’t really have a choice, the system... I didn’t want to show up on your doorstep… yeah, I know, coming in through the window wasn’t a much better introduction, but I didn’t want to involve you back then, it was kinda my way of controlling things. I guess I wasn’t ready yet, and I knew you were, you had your own things to deal with, not that I picked the best time -” his words trailed off and he studied the remains on his plate before he pushed it away.

“No, I get it. I do, and you’re right, I was a mess back then. But I am glad you found me, no matter how inelegant your entrance into my life may have been. Pete, look at me.”

Peter slowly met Tony’s gaze and waited.

“If I could have picked someone to be my kid, I would have picked you.”

Peter couldn’t help but grin at him, then he asked quietly, “can I get one more burger?”

Tony laughed and shook his head, then nodded at the waitress, who rolled her eyes but yelled at the kitchen, “two more burgers!”


	15. Eggnog

Stephen walked into their bedroom to find Tony stretched out, holding a cup that looked to be filled to the brim with eggnog and a stack of envelopes sitting next to him on the bed.

“Peter?”

“Over at Ned’s. Not planning another break-in, new Lego set.”

“Good.”

He walked over and took the cup out of Tony’s hand and took a sniff. “A little nog with your rum?”

“I don’t think I can do this sober.”

“Her letters.”

“Yeah.”

“I can go make dinner -”

“Stay. Please?”

“Yeah. Of course.” Stephen slipped into bed and took the eggnog out of Tony’s hand and put it on the bedside table, then undid the ribbon on the letters and handed him the first one.

“Doc.”

“You can do this, Tony. She wanted you to know, otherwise she would have burned these, she never would have told him about you if she hadn’t wanted him to find you one day. She had her reasons, maybe these will tell you why.”

“October 31 1996 -

Tony -

You have a son. His name is Peter. He has your eyes, and I hope he will one day have your intelligence and heart. I need to do this on my own. I can, I know it is wildly unfair to you, but I think it would be just as unfair to raise him in the world you live in. It’s not that I don’t love you. I do. 

Damn, you know I can write better than this, this is a rough first draft, I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t want you to feel pressured into anything, and I know what I want to do. I have friends, good friends who will help with watching him so I can finish school, and then I will get a job, you know I can do this. I am sorry, Tony.

J.”

“J?” Stephen asked quietly as Tony refolded the paper and slipped it back into the envelope.

“Jenny.”

“You never told me her name before.”

“No… I’d never been left before, I always did the leaving, I was good at that. I was twenty-five, running SI, she was twenty-two, about to finish school, and she came to interview me, part of her master’s thesis. She was the first person, other than you, to surprise me. I thought she was it, and -” Tony tied the envelopes back together again, and holding them tightly in his hand, curled up into Stephen’s lap and closed his eyes. “Thank you.”

“What for?” Stephen whispered as he ran his fingers lightly through Tony’s hair, sighing as he felt the scars that they never talked about.

“For being you, for being here.”

“I always will, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, Doc. I know. I’m not hungry, will you -”

“I’m not going anywhere, never will.”


	16. Gifts

“What is this?” Tony asked as Peter pushed a neatly wrapped package towards him.

“I know it's early, just open it, please.”

Tony nodded, then studied the package before he took his time unwrapping it, to find a photo album that had obviously been through the wars.

“She loved taking pictures. It’s mostly of, well, me. There are a couple of her. Just thought -”

Tony opened it carefully and held his breath as he saw the first years of Peter’s life fly by as he flipped through it. And then, the first blurry image of her, she had tried to avoid the camera, but there was her smile. The smile he had loved… yeah, he had loved her. He looked up at Peter and catching a glimpse of the same smile, whispered, “thank you, Pete. I have something for you too. It’s not really ready yet, I thought we could work on it together, it’s - just a drawing at this point.” He pushed over the notebook he had been working in, and looked away. “You can tell me what you like, don’t like -” He looked up as the expression on Peter’s face changed to awe, and then, the light. Damn. From the corner of his eye, he caught Stephen grinning at them from across the room, and he knew he had seen it, that same look on Tony’s face, so many times over the years. 

“Dad.” Tony wondered how his heart hadn’t exploded yet, when Peter looked at up him again and asked, “when can we start?”

“Now, if you want.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, kiddo, head on down, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Stephen shook his head as he watched Peter all but fly to the elevator, then walked over to Tony and draping his arms around him, kissed him as he looked up at him. “It’s good, Stark, it’s all good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, you know it is.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too. I’ve got some shopping to do, I’ll be back in a while.”

“Doc, be careful out there.”

“Always.”

“Hey.”

“Doc.”

“Tony?”

Tony turned towards him and Stephen carefully dropped the bags he had been carrying and reached out to pull him into his arms, then waited until Tony could catch his breath and whisper into his shoulder. “I don’t understand -”

“What don’t you understand?” 

“How my father - I know I was -”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“But -”

“Tony. It was never your fault. Never. Listen to me.” Stephen pulled away just enough so he could look into Tony’s eyes. “Your father - I only met him once for less than five minutes, but it was enough to know he was a first rate ass. Shit. I’m sorry for how he treated you, and I’m so sorry you didn’t have the chance to know Pete before, but you have this time with him now. You know who you are, you have so much to teach him, and he’s here to listen.” 

Stephen smiled gently at him then kissed his forehead and rumbled into Tony’s hair as he relaxed into his chest and wrapped his arms around him, “you are not your father, Tony Stark, and that kid downstairs is the luckiest kid on the planet to have you for a father. Now, go on - go hang out with your kid.”

Tony grinned up at him and shook his head. “How did I -”

Stephen kissed him soundly, then whispered, “I’m the lucky one, Stark. Go on, dinner will be ready in a little while, I’m sure he’s starving by now.”

“Love you.”

“Yeah, love you, too.”


	17. Party

Last year about this time, they would have been working out the last minute details of their annual holiday party, mostly Stephen's friends from work, and people Tony felt obligated to invite, but after the attack on New York, and the arrival of Peter in their lives, they decided to keep it simple. Just Peter and his friends, dinner and maybe Christmas movies...

"I don't know, they might think it's silly," Tony muttered as Stephen kissed his shoulder.

"Well then, they think it's silly, we always watch our movie on Christmas, and Die Hard may be many things, but I've never heard anyone claim it's silly. It's tradition."

Tony laughed and rolled over to face him. "It never ceases to amaze me, how lucky I am, we are so different, and yet, we agree about Die Hard."

Stephen snorted and as he pulled Tony closer whispered, "I do worry about anyone who doesn't think Die Hard is a Christmas movie, I worry about you for other reasons, of course, but at least I know where you stand where Christmas movies are concerned."

Tony huffed, but couldn't help from laughing again. "I do love you, Stephen."

"Yeah, I know, try to sleep, big day tomorrow, hmm."

"You think -"

"I don't know too many teenagers, Stark, but from what I can tell, he's a decent kid, and apart from his superpowers, or whatever you want to call it - he's one of the most well-adjusted people I've met, and it's Christmas Eve tomorrow -"

"Shh. Don't jinx it."

Stephen sighed and wrapped himself around Tony, and waited until he knew he was asleep before he whispered, "it will be perfect, I promise."


	18. Free Space: Grey

There have always been days and nights and the rare week at a time when he has tried to hide from Stephen, and over the years, his friend, lover and husband has learned to let him be, as hard as it is not to want to fix everything for him, when Tony falls into his 'grey' mood. 

He's never been diagnosed as bi-polar, or manic, or ADHD or anything that has an acronym, but he's never given anyone the chance, perhaps out of fear that they might try to 'fix' him, or just because he's never had to deal with things in the way other people do. He's always had a bubble of a sort simply from being who he is. 

Being the genius, billionaire philanthropist, part-time superhero, (he hasn't truly ever been the playboy, not really, except maybe for the couple of years between Jenny and finally coming to terms with his feelings for Stephen,) has its perks at times. But there are times when everything goes grey for him, even before Afghanistan, long before the Chitauri got into his head, and he's tried to explain it to Stephen, and he wishes there was a drug that could pull him out of it. It's as if everything is muffled. The bright, sparkling mess of ideas that are constantly bouncing inside him slow to a dead stop and he can barely breathe, let alone try to deal with other people wanting him to be -

"Damn."

As Stephen rolled over and looked into his eyes, he already recognized it as one of those days. "He'll understand."

"How can he?" Tony asked as he buried his face into Stephen's shoulder.

"He's a smart kid, I think he already understands that not everything that comes with being a Stark is an advantage." Tony sighed as Stephen settled him against his chest and wrapped around him tightly, then pressed his lips into his hair, and whispered into the dark hours of the morning, "I'm here, Tony, I'm not going anywhere, I promise." 

Later in the day, he looked up from the dark monitors to find Peter sitting across from him, with something he can only sense is empathy etched into his youthful features, and he knows Stephen is right, as he usually is. 

"How long -"

"It's gotten a bit better since the spider thing, but I've always had times when everything loses its color, and I find it hard -"

"To breathe?" Tony asked in a hushed voice.

Peter nodded. He reached out his hands to his father and waited patiently as Tony shrugged, and let out the sob of a breath he had been holding in most of the day as he placed his trembling hands into Peter's. "Sorry."

"What for?"

"I should be stronger than whatever it is in my head -"

"Nah." Peter shook his head, and after a moment as he looked down at their hands said quietly, "Mom? She always said that with brains like ours going so much faster than most peoples, it made sense that some days they just needed time for a recalibration. There's nothing weak about you, Dad. You just need time to recalibrate is all."

Not even Stephen had been able to put it into words for him as Peter just had. His parents had just tried to ignore it, had put it down to tantrums or adolescence angst, but Peter was able to make it less dehumanizing. Of all the gifts Peter could have offered him, that first Christmas, finally being understood was not something he expected, but as he looked into his son's eyes, he knew that they had both been fully seen for the first time.


	19. Icicles and Sleigh Bells

Tony looked over at Peter who was wearing a lightweight jacket and gloves, and he had only suffered putting those on to please him before they left for their walk. It had finally stopped snowing, but now was in the low twenties with a slight wind, and he guessed it was his age and whatever had happened to him that made his metabolism believe it was in the seventies. He looked up at the buildings around them and pointed out the icicles, some were at least a foot or two long. "See, it's actually cold out here."

Peter sighed, then removed one of his gloves and touched his father's shoulder. Tony blinked at him as he could feel the heat through the layers he had put on, but did little to keep him warm. "It started after the spiderthing, it's like I have a heater going all the time - probably why I'm always hungry."

"I thought that was just from being sixteen," Tony muttered, as he watched Peter put his glove back on for his benefit.

Peter shrugged, then looked down at his new boots, and kicked at the pile of snow, before he glanced up at Tony. "You're the first person - I mean - Ned knows almost everything about what I have to deal with since whatever happened to me, but - look. Since Afghanistan, there's stuff I bet, you can't even tell Stephen. And I don't mean the nightmares, just what it's like to be so different than anyone else, I know you're freezing right now, but you knew I needed to get outside, I breathe better out here - and somehow -"

Tony nodded. "Doesn't matter where I am, I can't really get warm. I've adjusted, and I know, I get claustrophobic if I'm indoors too long, ever since the cave. You're right, I haven't told Stephen everything, he's managed to guess most of it, but we don't really talk about it, because, I'm not sure why I don't tell him - no, I know why. I know as much as he wants to understand, he can't really. I had never felt helpless before I woke up in that cave, and knew I had lost any control over my life. Before, I could do anything I wanted, say anything I wanted, to a certain extent. In that cave, I learned the hard way how little control I had, when I got back -"

"Everything was the same, except for you?" Peter asked quietly.

"Yeah. I had to reinvent myself, not just because of this," he said as he tapped on the arc reactor. "But, mentally, I had to find a way to trust my instincts again, and what I had with Stephen -" he shook his head as he heard the sleigh bells from a horse drawn carriage that pulled up next to them. 

"Evenin' Mr. Stark," said the driver and he raised his cap in salute.

"Evenin' Sam. Come on, Pete - Sam, this is my son, Pete, he's never seen Christmas the way it should be seen, can you give us the grand tour?"

"You bet, Mr. Stark. Nice to meet you, Pete, you know your dad is something special, yeah?"

Peter grinned up at Sam and said, "yeah, Sam, I do." He offered Tony a hand and helped him into the carriage, then climbed in next to him. "Wow - this is really cool."

"You ain't seen nothing yet, kiddo," Tony said as the light turned green and Sam eased the horse forward.

"Thank you," Tony mumbled as he fell into bed next to Stephen.

"For what?" Stephen asked as he replaced the bookmark in his book and laid it aside.

Tony rolled over and looked up at him. "Sam doesn't usually drive that time of day, you knew - you always know what I need."

"No," Stephen shook his head, then eased down under the covers, and reached out to gather Tony into his arms. "I don't, but I do know the route you always take when you need space, and the kid - I figured out how fast his metabolism is the first time I saw him eat, and that Sam always has an extra blanket in his carriage, and has always had a soft spot for you, and now since -"

Tony couldn't help but laugh. "You're brilliant and I adore you."

"Yeah, I know," Stephen muttered, then whispered into Tony's hair, "ditto - I wish - I just wish I could -"

Tony sat up, then looked into the blue-green eyes for a moment, before he spoke quietly. "I know. I know you would do anything - do you know how often I just watch you sleep, and wonder at the fact that you are still here?"

Stephen reached out for him and pulled the covers over both of them and mumbled as he drifted off to sleep, "where else could I be, Tony, except where I am?"


End file.
